Regretful Times
by fireandice
Summary: Just a little sumthin.....R&R!!!!
1. Book One

Disclaimer: The usual Stuff. Of course none of us own Hannibal Lecter or Clarice Starling, but anyone else is mine. Thank you Mr. Harris for such an elaborate imagination.  
  
I know this may seem a little rough, but I just wanted to get it out and see what people think. Just for note, the italics are the character's thoughts.  
  
Book I  
Part I  
  
"Would you ever say 'stop, if you love me you'll stop?'"  
  
"Not in a thousand years." As soon as she said that, Clarice knew it to be a mistake, but the damage was done.  
  
"Not in a thousand years. That's my girl."  
  
Lecter leaned toward Clarice and for a moment, as Lecter's mouth loomed over her own, she felt an ounce of fear. That remark could have cost her her life, but then she was reassured she'd live as she felt Lecter's lips touch her own. Her next action, the clinking of the cuffs around her and Lecter's wrists had her thinking that she had finally won. Lecter was stuck to her and the police would be there any moment.  
  
"Now that's interesting Clarice. I'm rather pressed for time. Where's the key?" Clarice just stood there looking at him as she knew it had to be this way.  
  
"Where is the key?" Clarice still refused as she watched Lecter searching the kitchen frantically. Finally he found something to suit his needs: a cleaver.  
  
"Above the wrist or below," Lecter taunted. "This is really going to hurt." As the cleaver went up into the air, Clarice turned her head, squinted her eyes, and cried out for any God that there was.  
  
Clarice sat bold upright in her bed. A warm, familiar hand went to her back, rubbing it ever so gently.  
  
"Bad dream again?"  
  
"Yeah, the same one every night," Clarice replied.  
  
"Want to talk about it? You know it will help."  
  
"No, no. I'll be all right."  
  
"Clarice....this is the fifth time this week alone."  
  
"I know, I know. I'm ok. Go back to sleep."  
  
Part II  
  
The next morning, Clarice awoke to an empty bed with feelings of regret, much as she did every morning. The now vacant spot next to her didn't bother her, as Shawn, her fiancée, had to be up early for work. She was now becoming somewhat accustomed to these feelings of regret, but was still uneasy about them and unsure as to what she should do about them. The only person on Earth that could help her was not even an option now. It had been three and a half years since that night in the kitchen. Three and a half years and hundreds of hours of therapy sessions, yet she still had regrets.  
  
She had been forced to tell the entire story to the FBI and her statement from that night's events was now sealed under the highest security clearance possible. Now only three people knew what had happened that night: her therapist, herself, and him. Not even Shawn knew. The FBI had ruled that the drugs Lecter had administered effected her, keeping her from apprehending Lecter, but the fact that she had been under suspension when she went to Muskrat Farm cost her the job. Now she headed up the security department at D.C.'s largest Federal Bank. It was a step down in rank, but a boost in pay.  
  
But this was a life anew. New job, new home, new man. No longer did she have to live those days of working in "Hannibal's House." Nor did she have to spend every minute of the day wondering where he was or what he was doing. She was free now, free of him and his torment. Or at least that's what the therapist had told her.  
  
Tonight, Clarice's dream was different, and more disturbing to her progress towards a new life. Tonight's dream represented all of Clarice's regrets as it was a dream full of passion and no regrets as her mind played out for her what she had subconsciously wanted to happen that night in the kitchen.   
  
Throughout the night, Shawn was awoken to hear one thing he never wanted to hear from Clarice. "Oh Hannibal" and "Hannibal, please." These two statements were repeated over and over in her dreaming. Over and over Shawn heard Clarice repeat Lecter's name as he saw her look completely at peace and relaxed for the first time in three and a half years.  
  
Part III  
  
Sunshine. Birds singing. Fresh dew on the lawn. This morning Clarice woke to a warm bed, yet she was not at all interested in the body that lay next to her. Clarice walked to the bathroom to brush her teeth, and as she did, her eyes began to close and took her to the dream from the night before. As she stood there brushing mechanically, a warm arm slipped around her tummy and gave her a hug.  
  
"Oh Hannibal," Clarice gasped  
  
"Clarice?" a voice questioned. She showed no response.   
  
"Clarice.......What are you talking about? Clarice......CLARICE???"  
  
At the last calling of her name, Clarice snapped from her dream and back into reality.  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"Clarice, what's going on inside that head of yours? You've been dreaming about Hannibal Lecter??? Last night in your sleep, you kept saying his name over and over.....erotically. And just now.....talk to me, please!"  
  
"Really, I'm ok. The, uh, therapist said it's normal. Part of the healing process, really."  
  
Clarice was lying. Half of the lie was to try and convince herself she was normal because she wasn't sure what was going on, and it wouldn't help to tell Shawn about it until she had figured it out for herself. In some way, it was at this moment where Shawn began to feel Clarice slipping away, yet he felt in his heart that she loved him, and he definately loved her, so things would work out for them in the end. Clarice just needs some time and space. But that morning there was a strange aura of peace and calm that radiated from her body like sunlight. Shawn couldn't help but notice the glow as he stood back to admire her physique. The wedding was only two weeks away.  
  
  



	2. Book Two

Disclaimer: Again, the usual things. Thanks again to the brilliant Mr. Harris.  
  
Book II  
Part I  
  
"FBI Beauty to put Beast Behind Her and Wed After Years of Therapy" read the National Tattler headline in 72 point railroad gothic. Lecter sat at his dinner table for a full fifteen minutes before moving after he read the headline. There was a split picture on the front, the left half held a not-so-flattering picture of Clarice Starling, and on the right was Lecter's mug shot from his capture. Still using that old picture. My, my Clarice. What have you gotten yourself into this time?  
  
After another fifteen minutes, Lecter turned in the paper to the rest of the article. It entertained the theory of the a possible "Beauty and the Best" relationship between Lecter and Clarice. Somehow they knew the truth, but luckily no one believed supermarket tabloids anyway. The article went on to tell of Clarice's three years in therapy because of Lecter and her loss of the FBI job causing the move to the bank security job. Lecter at that moment began to make arrangements for travel to the states. He didn't intend on speaking with her, but he had to see her and make sure her life was satisfactory and that she was emotionally all right. Besides, he had to meet the lucky man and didn't want to miss her wedding for anything in the world.  
  
Part II  
  
For the next week, Clarice kept mostly to herself, silently reflecting on her dreams. They all pointed to one thing: the mistake she had made in her life. While she truly only loved one man, she forced herself to believe that if she upheld the image of a normal and happy life that her life would eventually become just that. So far it wasn't working that well, but Clarice was never a quitter.   
  
With only five days to go now until the wedding, Clarice began to slump down more and more on herself. She sat alone and drank most of the time, hoping the drunkenness would numb the pain, or the lack of.  
  
Part III  
  
It was now Clarice's final night as an unmarried woman. This should be her most happiest night yet, knowing she would be wed on the next day. Against heavy opposition, Clarice chose not to have a bachelorette party and instead stayed at home, thinking and drinking. Unbeknownst to her, she was not alone though, for someone was lurking silently in the shadows of her apartment, watching and waiting.  
  
Silently in the darkness sat Hannibal Lecter. He watched helplessly as he realized how much that Chesapeake Bay incident had destroyed Clarice's life. At first he was angered with her for her decision, but now, sitting in her apartment, re came to understand everything that was wrong in her life, but was convinced it was best to stay away from her and let her work it out on her own. If he, himself, was what she desired, then Lecter had no doubt that Clarice would search him out.  
  
As Lecter sat, watching Clarice's beauty in her sleep, her body began to stir. Lecter's eyes followed as she rose from the bed and walked to the bathroom, stumbling from the drunkenness. How he wished to hold his Clarice at thus vulnerable moment and assure her that everything would be all right, yet he didn't dare move.  
  
Clarice stood in the bathroom, staring into the mirror with her back to Lecter. After a few moments, when Clarice turned around, Lecter was shocked and amazed at the sight before him. A trail of blood followed Clarice as she went to sit down on the couch. Her face was so pale, her figure so emaciated. Clarice now sat only five feet from Lecter and the urge was too much to resist. How could he let her kill herself knowing he would have himself to blame. Living half way around the world from her was one thing, but to loose her all together was damnable torture.  
  
In one swift motion, Lecter was sitting next to Clarice on the couch. Looking deeply into her eyes, he took her wrists into each of his hands. Clarice's reaction was hardly one at all. She looked at him in desperation and acted as though she had known he was there all along.  
  
"Clarice my dear....." Lecter said as he began to apply pressure to her wounds. Nonchalantly he pulled a syringe out of he coat pocket and inserted it into her arm. Within one minute Clarice had slumped over into Lecter's arms. Working quickly, Lecter found acceptable needle and thread and sewed the wounds with small straight stitches. In two hours Clarice had awoken. They began to talk, mostly Clarice, and she told him about her therapy sessions and how subconsciously she had been waiting all those years for him to come and rescue her from this life. Lecter in turn gave Clarice the truth about her life, and while it stung deeply she accepted it and began to feel better. For the rest of the night, Clarice sat on the couch in the arms of a killer, never once thinking about the crimes he had committed.  
  
Part IV  
  
As the sun began to rise, Lecter rose to go. He had wanted to invite her to go with him, but felt that she must come to the realization of a life with herself. As Clarice watched Lecter walk toward the door a sadness overcame her the superseded depression. Quickly and hastily, she blurted out, "If you love me, you'll stop."  
  
Those words unleashed symphonies of joy all over and in throughout Lecter's body. But this was no time to act foolish.  
  
"Are you sure this is what you want? There's no going back." Lecter questioned and warned.  
  
With that, Clarice arose and walked over to Lecter, placing her arm around his and said," Let's go Hannibal."  
  
Part V  
  
Two months later, Clarice sat with Hannibal outside a coffee shop in Florence as she read the latest issue of the National Tattler. The headline read in 72 point railroad gothic, "Search for Clarice Starling Abandoned as Letter Confirmed to be Authentic". With the reading of that headline, Clarice felt the closing of a door in her life and the opening of another to her new life. No longer did she need therapy, as everything she had ever needed was right in front of her. Clarice was relieved to know Shawn has received her letter. She hoped he would understand.  
  
Dear Shawn  
  
I am hoping you'll understand, even though it's likely you never will. I'm sorry to have led you on. Somewhere in the world is the right woman for you and I am not it. I know you'll find her. I am now truly happy. Don't worry about me. It's so odd that one can know what it is one wants all along, yet never be able to realize it and believe that it is true until you finally have it. All the best of luck and love to you in life.  
  
Sincerely,  
C.L.  
  
PS Yes, the initials are accurate, and no I haven't gone out of my mind. I finally found the peace for it and my mind's now in the rightful place for which it belongs.  
  
FIN  
I know guys that this scenario is over done. And the ending didn't materialize as I had though it would, but the paper wrote its self. I know it's not that great, but I just had to get it out. I encourage constructive criticism, just don't get bitter or rude. We all know what happens to the rude ones..........  
  



End file.
